


Things Natasha Romanoff Does Not Do

by sleepless_raccoon



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Pining, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Unrequited Crush, except it's puberty not the serum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2018-09-24 07:35:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9711329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepless_raccoon/pseuds/sleepless_raccoon
Summary: Natasha Romanoff did not suffer unrequited crushes. Any guy would jump at the chance to date her. The whole school knew that.The whole school was wrong.Because Natasha Romanoff was suffering from an unrequited crush on Steve Rogers. And they both knew it. Because Steve Rogers did not jump at the chance to date her. He’d turned her down flat. And scowled.





	1. Natasha Romanoff Does Not Blush

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written Nat, so hopefully it doesn't suck. Also can't believe I'm writing high school au, but here it is.

Natasha Romanoff was staring out the window, ignoring the history lecture and pretending that she didn’t know Steve Rogers was staring at her. She was torn between ignoring the thrill that knowledge gave her and pretending that his gaze wasn’t inspiring that reaction. Thus far the ambivalence was at least saving her from blushing.

Natasha Romanoff did not blush. The whole school knew that.

Steve Rogers did blush. Natasha wasn’t certain how many people knew that, but she definitely did. He did it every time she smiled at him, or paid him a compliment, or deliberately brushed against him in the hall. But for all his red cheeks and ears and neck, he never did anything but scowl at her. He smiled at everyone else – or at least, she’d never seen him scowl at anyone else like he did her. Even when he was upset with Bucky, his best friend, his expression was tinged with fondness.

Bucky also made Steve blush, regularly. Well, she didn’t see them together enough to know if “regularly” was an appropriate term, but it happened often when she was around the two of them. So he wasn’t blushing because he disliked her, but it wasn’t a bashful, there’s a pretty girl talking to me thing, either, as much as she might wish for that to be true.

Except that Natasha Romanoff did not suffer unrequited crushes. Any guy would jump at the chance to date her. The whole school knew that.

The whole school was wrong.

Because Natasha Romanoff was suffering from an unrequited crush on Steve Rogers. And they both knew it. Because Steve Rogers did not jump at the chance to date her. He’d turned her down flat. And scowled.

Natasha was glad that her rejection had at least been unwitnessed, but the sting of it lingered, even when no one else knew it had even taken place. When it happened, she’d found a reason to be grateful for all her years of living “in the system,” and the blank expression she’d learned the hard way to always wear on her face when her insides were tearing themselves apart. Since being adopted by Phil when she was thirteen, Natasha had made the effort to unlearn most of those defensive behaviors, slowly opening up to her new father. Her older brother Clint had been the one to let down his defenses first, and convinced his little sister that Phil was sincere in his desire to love and parent them – and proved it by legally adopting them both as soon as the state allowed.

At school, though, it was harder to be her real self, to let her insecurities and genuine emotions show. It felt like being on display, too much like the early years of being gawked at and gossiped about and excluded. If she and Clint hadn’t gone to the same school for most of those years, Natasha didn’t know how she would have survived. Middle school had been hell.

High school though; high school was a fresh start, in a new district, and she wasn’t “that foster kid” anymore. She was Natasha Romanoff Coulson, and her older brother was a popular senior her freshman year, which gave her instant social status. She had looked forward to the next four years eagerly, and planned her first day outfit with military-like tactical research.

She was an instant success. Pretty, athletic, intelligent, with connections to the senior class thanks to her older brother; there was no more perfect recipe for popularity. Natasha wasn’t used to being liked, and at first it was a heady thing. She went on dates every weekend, sometimes with more than one boy in the same weekend, and had girlfriends, actual girl friends for actual girly sleepovers. After awhile though, the shine wore off a bit, and Natasha found that it was kind of boring going on the same first date with different boys every weekend, asking and answering the same questions over and over. She also discovered that some girls didn’t want to be friends with Natasha; they wanted to be social equals with Natasha Romanoff, freshman queen bee.

Sophomore year she was quieter, and only kept those friends that had cared about her over the summer, and hadn’t gossiped about her behind her back. It was amazing how many  
people were willing to tattle on the friends of the most popular girl at school, as though that would ensure that they could cozy up to the popular girl and become popular themselves.

Sophomore year was also the year she asked out Steve Rogers. She had stopped going on dates towards the end of freshman year, and had started wondering what it would be like to date someone for longer than a night or two, to have a real relationship. She was too young for anything lasting, she was sure, but hearing about Phil and Audrey’s enduring love for each other, their patience and commitment through fights and hard times, until the disease that robbed them of the chance to have their own children finally claimed her life, had an impact on her psyche. She also disliked the reputation that dating a lot of people apparently earned you, especially if you were a girl, even if you never did anything physical. No one was stupid enough to start false rumors about Clint Coulson’s baby sister, but Natasha knew that was thin protection at best from the ego of a teenaged male.

Without realizing it, she started mentally tallying the things she would look for in a long-term boyfriend, and many of them were things she admired in Clint and Phil: tenacity, integrity, honesty, sincerity, courage…and a witty, troll-like sense of humor. By the time she realized she had a crush on Steve, from art, English, and math class, the semester was almost over. She decided to wait until after Christmas break to make her move.

January she spent observing him –on purpose, this time – only to realize that she’d spent so long watching him and admiring him unintentionally that she didn’t really need reconnaissance to form a plan. She was just scared to ask out a boy she actually liked. His opinion of her mattered, when it never had before, and Natasha found that instead of being brave the previous year, she had actually just been uncaring. Now she cared, and she was terrified.

She finally mustered her courage the first week of February, because Valentine’s was coming, and Steve was the funniest, smartest, most admirable guy at their school, not to mention really cute, and she didn’t want to miss out on her chance.

She waited until school let out for the day and skipped practice to get him alone while Bucky was on the field. Steve was in the library, working on homework, and she took the chair next to him, thankful there was no one else around. She was also thankful that they were sitting down, since he wouldn’t be reminded that she was taller than he was. Steve didn’t seem like the kind of guy to mind that his girlfriend was taller than him, and it was only a few inches, but you could never tell.

“Hi, Steve,” she said, offering him the smile she couldn’t seem to hold back in his presence.

He started and looked up. “Oh, hi,” he said.

It irked her that he never called her by her name, but she shrugged it off. They hadn’t spoken much until now, and that would change when they were dating. “So, um, what are you doing this weekend?” she asked. It wouldn’t do to ask him out if he already had plans.

He shook his head and said, “Nothing special, just that essay we have for Mr. Benson.”

She bit her lip. This was the perfect moment; she just had to seize it. “Oh, well, I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You mean like a date?” he clarified.

“Yes, except not like a date, an actual date. You and me, and a social activity together outside of school.”

His lips quirked, and she smiled again. They could have so much fun if he could appreciate her dry humor. They should go to lunch on Saturday – that way the date could last longer, and maybe stretch into the evening, instead of ending after only a couple hours Friday night. What should she wear? Something versatile, maybe her – 

Except then he frowned and said, “Thanks, but I don’t think so. Have a good weekend.” And he turned away and focused on his math notebook again.

Natasha stood and walked out of the library as though moving through water. She thought she said something by way of goodbye to Steve, but couldn’t recall for anything what words she’d used. Everything sounded muffled, and she felt like she was moving slowly against great resistance. She felt that way until she was home, sitting on her bed, absorbing the reality that Steve Rogers, the best guy at their school, the only guy she actually wanted, didn’t want her. Had turned her down flat without even a moment’s hesitation or consideration.

Then she cried.

No one else at the school seemed to notice that she was even quieter than usual the rest of that week, not even her best friend, Maria. Natasha was glad after her rejection that she’d never confided her crush to her friend, because it saved her reliving that painful experience. She intended to lock away this painful memory along with every other she’d accumulated.

But she couldn’t. The sting of it was different, more biting, more personal. Most kids that bullied her didn’t have anything against her personally – they just recognized her as different, maybe weaker, an easy target. And maybe that’s what hurt the most – she knew that Steve hated bullies, that he’d gotten in fights before standing up for other kids he didn’t even know, but he wasn’t willing to give her a chance.

Natasha never let anyone at school see her cringe when Steve was nice to other girls, never let it show that it bothered her when he’d frown at her, wishing for the days when he ignored her, never let anyone know that she held her breath when she and Bucky were paired for a group project, waiting to see if he’d say anything about his best friend’s reasons, but he never said a word. He also didn’t flirt as much as he usually did, so she figured he knew about the Incident, but it was a taboo subject between them, the proverbial elephant.

And Natasha never, ever let anyone see her cry when Steve grew almost a foot taller and started broadening in the shoulders between sophomore and junior year, and Sharon Carter asked him out before the first month of school was over. She knew she’d missed her chance forever after that; Steve became one of the most popular guys at school, and if he wasn’t interested in her when he was skinny and under most people’s radar, he would never want to date her now, when he could have any girl in the school. She even went on a few dates, meaningless and boring, so that no one would suspect her heart was breaking.

Because Natasha Romanoff never cried.

The whole school knew that.


	2. Natasha Romanoff Does Not Get Moonstruck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the response to the first chapter of this...wow. Thank you! I was nervous, like I said, cause I've never written Nat before (despite my deep and abiding love for her character), and this was just a random plot bunny that I wanted to explore, so thanks ever so for all the enthusiasm and support! Enjoy this next chapter, in which there is actual interaction between the main characters ;)

“Natasha.”

The sound of his voice jerked her back into awareness, and she realized that everyone else was standing, stowing away their stuff and getting ready to leave for the day. Class was over and she hadn’t even noticed, and Steve was standing in front of her desk. And he’d said her name. Had he ever done that before? She wanted him to say it again…

He was staring down at her, frowning (of course), and Natasha realized she hadn’t responded. “Yes?” she said finally.

There was that quirk to his lips again, like he was amused but didn’t want to admit it. “Did you hear any of what Ms. Gallis said?”

Natasha raised one eyebrow. “About what?” she asked. She didn’t want to admit that she’d zoned out pretty much completely only halfway through the intro lecture on world war two. She wasn’t worried about her grade if she skipped listening and taking notes on the whole subject; Phil was a world war two buff, had coffee table books about it, an entire shelf of movies (documentaries and fiction), and a collection of memorabilia he loved to discuss with his kids. She’d even surprised him last Christmas with replica uniforms for each of them, as a nudge to finally look into reenacting.

“About our group projects,” Steve said, and again Natasha felt her awareness jolted. She suddenly felt like the air was very hot, and pressing against all her pores, tight and thick and making it difficult to take a deep breath. She fought the sensation and took one anyway before responding.

“I think I missed that part,” she admitted.

He nodded. “Well, she paired us together. What days are good for you? I figure we’ve both got practice right after school, but maybe we could meet some evening to talk about ideas?”

Natasha picked up the handout she’d accepted without looking at and skimmed it. “A paper, and a presentation?” she said aloud. “On a piece of propaganda?” She wondered what Phil would recommend; she was certain the famous Rosie poster would be the first thing claimed, but her dad had some really cool examples of propaganda posters in one of his coffee table books.

“Can you come over tomorrow?” she asked Steve. “My dad has a book with lots of posters in it, we could choose something from that – unless you already have an idea?”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t have any preference, and that sounds great, but I can’t tomorrow night. How about today?”

Natasha bit her lip. That didn’t give her much time to prepare herself for seeing Steve at her house, in her space, knowing that he didn’t want anything to do with her, but after tomorrow she had plans with Maria and then the game, and he was probably busy on the weekend. “Okay,” she agreed. “Give me your number and I’ll text you the address; you can come by after seven.” They would be done with dinner and the dishes by then, and she could warn Phil and ask him for suggestions while they ate.

Steve wrote his number on her handout and said “see you later, Natasha,” and walked out, but she didn’t stand or make any attempt to gather her things for several minutes. Frankly, it was shameful, not just embarrassing but shameful, to still be so affected by him. If only he had dated her, she reasoned, they could have broken up and moved on, probably by the time summer rolled around, or maybe during the vacation, but instead of giving her a chance to grow annoyed by his flaws, Steve remained something of a puzzle to her. He wasn’t perfect, of course, but none of his personality ticks or character defects was a deal breaker for her. She couldn’t find anything about him that made it possible for her hate him, or even dislike him, unless it was breaking her heart. Since she was mostly sure he didn’t know that was a thing, even that wasn’t enough. He was just…he was just so genuine, and noble. Those weren’t “cool” things to be, which was probably why he hadn’t been cool until his muscles showed up, but he didn’t try to hide those aspects of who he was. Steve Rogers was unashamedly himself, no matter what, even when it made him vulnerable, and Natasha admired that. She didn’t have that kind of courage. She knew it wasn’t any excuse to point out that she was closed off because she’d been bullied as a kid, either; not when Steve got into so many fights with bullies, and she’d heard Bucky talk about defending his friend and breaking up numerous poundings in which Steve definitely came out the worse. The truth of it was just that Steve was a better, braver person than Natasha, and he knew it, and he didn’t want her.

And he was coming to her house tonight. Natasha figured she’d just pull Phil into the room and let him run interference with all his enthusiasm.

 

Phil wasn’t going to come through for her. He was getting ready to leave when she got home, with money for takeout lying on the counter for her dinner. Her dinner alone.

“I’m sorry not to meet your friend, Nat, but I have dinner plans. I thought I told you?” he said, the faint lines on his forehead deepening in his confusion.

Natasha sighed. “If you did, I forgot,” she said. “I’ll call Steve and tell him we’ll have to meet another time.”

Now Phil looked even more confused. “Why would you do that? You should still work on your project. I can mark a few recommendations before I leave and you can choose your topic at   
least.”

“You aren’t uncomfortable with a high school guy coming over here while I’m home alone?” she asked, careful not to let her smirk show.

He laughed. “Honey, we both know that’s not a serious question. If it makes you uncomfortable, you wouldn’t have invited him over in the first place, and if you want someone else here, you can call Clint.” He looked a little curious now, and her stomach clenched nervously just before he asked, “Who did you say it was, again?”

“His name is Steve,” she said, as nonchalantly as she could manage.

Unfortunately, all of Natasha’s years of practice at hiding her feelings didn’t work for shit with Phil; he could see right through her. “Uh huh,” he said, “and would this be the same Steve that made you cry sophomore year? The one I caught you staring at photos of last year? That Steve?”

Natasha didn’t even try to lie. Phil would know, and it would hurt his feelings that she wasn’t honest. “Yes,” she confirmed. “Steve Rogers. We got paired for this project by our teacher.”

Phil nodded. “Well, I can reschedule my dinner,” he said, and pulled his phone out of his pocket, apparently intending to do just that.

“No, Dad, it’s fine,” she said. She wasn’t a child; she didn’t need him to protect her, or chaperone her, or whatever. Natasha could handle this. “Really,” she said, when he didn’t look convinced. “But thank you,” she added, and she couldn’t help the softness that crept into her voice. “I’ll be fine, Dad, but you’re sweet to offer. Have a good dinner.”

He studied her for a few minutes before nodding. “I’ll go put some sticky notes on some of the more interesting posters for you,” he said finally. “Call me if you need anything, of course.”

“I will, I promise.”

She picked up the twenty dollar bill and decided on pizza, because there was no such thing as too much pizza, and maybe Steve would like some.

“I love you,” Phil said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before he left.

“I love you too, Dad,” she said. He smiled, that small pleased smile that tucked in the corners of his mouth whenever she expressed her feelings, and squeezed her shoulder before walking out the door.

 

Steve and the pizza showed up at the same time, and Natasha had to take a deep breath to steady her nerves before opening the door so she wouldn’t fumble anything. She didn’t drop anything or forget how to sign her name (Clint was never living that one down), and soon she and Steve were inside and she was offering him a slice.

“I guess they were busy tonight,” she said. “I ordered this like an hour ago, so it’s probably cold, but you’re welcome to eat some. Phil apparently had dinner plans with a friend, and I never know when Clint is going to turn up randomly to do laundry or raid the fridge.”

He chuckled and took two slices. “Thanks,” he said.

Natasha led the way to the living room, where Phil had left out one of his books with several bright pink sticky notes marking the pages with little notes. “So my dad is really into world war two stuff, and he marked some of the ones he thought would be interesting for our project.”

Steve was already flipping the pages open to the first sticky. “This is great,” he said. They took a quick look at each page first, and decided against two of the five right away, but narrowing it down after that was…fun, actually. Natasha didn’t know that she’d ever had this much fun working on an assignment, and certainly never on a group or partner project. Steve was clearly not taking art classes for an easy grade; he had a lot to say about the artistic merits and styles of the posters Phil had suggested, and it was obvious he wasn’t just making shit up to sound impressive (which Natasha never understood, since all it did was make a guy sound like an idiot, and it never impressed her). They eventually chose one, and Natasha pulled another of Phil’s books off the shelf to check the index. They took notes from both books and discussed division of labor while she grabbed them both some more pizza (definitely cold now, but whatever), and finally there wasn’t anything more to say.

“Thanks for coming over,” she said, while he packed up his stuff.

“Thanks for the pizza,” he countered, and flashed her a smile.

Natasha reminded herself to breathe. “Yeah, sure, no problem,” she said, and hoped it didn’t sound as breathless and airy to him as it did to her own ears. The quick puzzled look he sent her made that hope evaporate, and she gave herself a little mental shake. “Um, I guess we can check in next week and see what needs finishing up?”

“Sounds good,” he agreed easily, and stood to leave. “See you in class,” he said at the door, and then he was gone.

Natasha closed the door and threw the deadbolt, then sighed and let her forehead fall forward to rest on the door. “Smooth, Romanoff,” she scolded herself. She pushed away from the door with a sigh and finished cleaning up before throwing herself into bed with a groan, determined not to relive that embarrassing squeaky response to his freaking smile. What was wrong with her? God, she was a senior in high school, not twelve years old with her first crush. She’d been on countless dates, and usually if one party was going to go all moonstruck and giggly it was the guy, not her. Never her.

Natasha Romanoff did not get giggly, especially over guys. Everyone knew that.

Except Steve. Steve was the exception to all her rules, and it was a problem.

Natasha needed to get over this ridiculous crush. It was time to move on. They would be graduating and scattering to college and jobs and the great wide world after this year; she would probably never see Steve Rogers again after graduation, and she didn’t want to start college weighed down by this…attachment.

Tomorrow, she was going to ask someone on a date.

She didn’t know who, but it would be someone Not Steve. And if he didn’t make her forget about blue eyes and quite frankly the most devastating smile she’d ever seen, she’d find someone else, until he did. And that he/someone would be her date the rest of the year, and then she could enjoy her summer.

This project would be good for her, she decided. She could interact with Steve, find out what made him annoying and boring and just like every other guy she went to school with, and be done with him when it was over. They’d get a good grade, because he wasn’t a slacker, and then she could move on. The rest of her life was coming; high school was a blip, and so would this crush be.

Decision made, Natasha sent Phil a thank you text letting him know what they’d chosen, then went to bed. It was early, but she was worn out, and she had a lot of recon to do the next day. It was time to start dating again.


	3. Natasha Romanoff Does Not Pine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *jazz hands* another chapter!

Natasha’s grand master plan would have been a lot easier to implement if there was anyone in her grade worth going on a date with. Unfortunately, most of the available options were dudes she’d either already gone out with at some point in the last four years, or dudes that she hadn’t for very good reasons, or Steve’s friends. For obvious reasons, Steve’s friends were as off limits as Larry the Linebacker whose favorite extracurricular activities included boning anything with legs that would let him, and getting high. No, thank you. Natasha had ratted on the guy several times, but somehow his urine test always came back clean.

She called Clint and explained her problem, and her chosen solution, but his response to asking for a set-up was “That’s the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard. Just ask the guy out again if he’s the one you want to date.” 

Natasha closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, then blew it out slowly. “He doesn’t want to date me,” she said again. “I already told you that.”

Clint sounded like he was rattling papers on his end of the phone. “Yeah, that was what, three years ago? Give it another try.”

“Two, and I think if he’d changed his mind, he would have said something,” she snapped. “Can you set me up with someone or not?”

Her brother just laughed. “Yeah, fine, I know a guy you might get along with. He’s a couple years younger than me, and he’s an exchange student, so even if it doesn’t go well he’d probably like another friend.”

Natasha let out a little sigh of relief. “That sounds great, thanks Clint.”

“I’ll text you,” was all he said further, and Natasha knew she’d hear something soon. No matter how much he complained, her big brother always came through for her.

 

Ten minutes into her date with Pietro, Natasha knew there would be a second date. Not because she was interested in him, but because he was cute, and funny, and Clint was right, the guy could use more friends. Also, she really wanted to meet his twin sister, because she sounded awesome.

They spent several hours talking about his experiences in the States so far, cracking jokes and making plans for things to do in the future, and if Natasha wasn’t using Pietro to distract her from Steve, and Pietro didn’t give off a decidedly platonic vibe whenever she flirted with him, laughing and winking and playing along with no emotional investment behind it, she might have worried or felt bad about using him, but they both seemed pretty pleased with the evening when it ended. Pietro promised to check with Wanda about her schedule so that the three of them could meet next time, and when she said goodnight, he kissed her cheek and winked again.

She texted Clint a thank you and several emojis expressing how well things had gone, and received a smiley face in return. She knew he would always come through for her, even with the small, stupid stuff, like ‘help me get over this dumb crush on a guy that doesn’t like me so I can go back to functioning before high school ends,’ because that’s what good big brothers did. And Clint was the best brother ever. She was gonna get him the best birthday gift ever this year…as soon as she figured out what that was. In the meantime, she was gonna get started on all her homework before the weekend completely disappeared.

 

“Hey, you got a minute?”

Natasha refrained from telling Steve something completely idiotic like she would always have time for him, or he could have all her minutes, or anything else humiliating and instead just responded with “Sure, what’s up?”

“Just wondering if we could go over our stuff for history class,” he said, and she nodded and led the way to an empty table.

“I’ll see you later,” she told Maria, and pulled out her notebook. “Did you get the powerpoint I emailed you?” she asked him while she flipped to the page with her notes.

“Yeah, it looked good. I made a couple changes that I wanted to show you; can we meet in the library later? I figure we can probably finish this up today if you have time.”

Natasha offered him her part of their essay and nodded. “Sure, that sounds good.” She skimmed over his writing in turn – jeez, was there anything this guy wasn’t good at? Even his handwriting was perfect – and told him, “I can type this all up with my notes into one paper while you finalize the presentation, if you want.”

He nodded. “Great. We can head over straight from class. See you then.”

Natasha smiled and decided to be stupid – or brave, depending on your point of view, but she knew it was definitely stupidity and maybe a latent masochistic streak that prompted her to say, “You have bio next, right? With Banner?”

When he confirmed, she said “Me, too. Wanna walk over together?”

She pretended her heart wasn’t suddenly pounding in her ears, and hoped he couldn’t hear it and see the fluttering at her pulse point while she waited for his reaction.

All he did was shrug and agree, which was blessedly anticlimactic, and Natasha reminded herself that she was meeting with Pietro and Wanda for dinner and a movie later, and it didn’t matter if her entire interaction with Steve passed without him scowling at her, she was going to get over him. So long as he didn’t smile at her again, she was probably safe. Maybe.

Naturally, now that they were walking together she couldn’t think of anything to say, and he seemed content to walk in friendly silence. At least it was a friendly science, and not awkward, but Natasha had had more successful social interactions with the giraffes at the zoo. (She would never make the mistake of feeding them again, but that was a different point for a different day).

“Have you ever fed the giraffes at the zoo?” she asked him.

What. The Actual. What. Natasha took several deep breaths and shook out the hand opposite Steve while she thought about that horrible video of a kitten crying for its dead mother Stacey had forced her to watch in seventh grade to ward off the blush she knew would follow in the wake of that terrible conversation starter. What was wrong with her?

Steve was obviously wondering the same thing, judging by the wary look (at least it wasn’t a frown) he was giving her, as though she might try to demonstrate a giraffe’s table manners next – or lack thereof, since giraffes were aggressive and mean in her own experience. Then again, maybe that look meant that he had fed them before, or at least seen it done.

“Yeah, actually, I have,” he said finally. “Bucky and I went once for a school trip in fourth grade, and one of them tried to eat my hair.”

Natasha laughed. “The same thing happened to Clint,” she told him. She was smiling again, that wide over bright smile she couldn’t ever tamp down whenever Steve was friendly with her, and after she laughed he blushed. She preened a little at that; even if he wasn’t interested, it was nice to see that he wasn’t indifferent. Unless she’d just embarrassed him by laughing so loudly, at something that might not have been meant as a joke…

But he was smiling also, and oh, it was lethal. “Maybe the ones we have here just like blonds,” he hypothesized, and they were both chuckling when they reached the classroom.

Her day only got better when Steve sat next to her in history class, and they traded a few snarky quips during the lecture. Then school was over for the day and they were walking to the computer lab together, chatting easily, and Steve hadn’t frowned at her even once the whole day.

Their project was easy to finish, and just as they were saving and sending the final products to each other, Natasha’s phone buzzed with a text from Pietro, asking if she wanted to meet a little earlier since Wanda’s class had been cancelled.

She texted him an affirmative, and then impulsively turned to Steve and said “Hey, so I don’t know what you’re doing after this, but I’m meeting some friends for food if you want to join.”

He hesitated, and she added “Obviously you can bring Bucky, too – we’re just going to grab food and maybe see a movie later.”

“Sure, Bucky and I usually hang out after practice, but since we didn’t have it today I’m not sure what his plans are. Let me check with him.”

Natasha forced herself to sit still while he texted and finished logging out of his station. She was ready to go, and as soon as he said “yeah, that sounds good” she was up and moving them towards the parking lot, afraid if she gave him a chance to reconsider he’d change his mind.

 

All the happy, good feelings that had been bubbling in Natasha since Steve walked with her to biology class were gone. This was the worst idea she’d ever had. Not only was Wanda GORGEOUS, willowy with long hair and a foreign accent, she’d brought a friend, Darcy, just in case Steve preferred spunky girls with generous curves. Natasha was an idiot.

Not only that, but Pietro, who was supposed to be distracting her from how amazing Steve was, had definitely smirked at her when they arrived, like he knew exactly what was going on  
– which knowing Clint and his tendency to overshare, was an actual possibility. Pietro was also flirting outrageously with her, but it was not at all distracting her from Steve, and how he was sitting right across from Darcy and Wanda. She had arranged this for the purpose of getting to know Wanda, but Wanda was at the opposite end of their table…getting to know Steve. Steve and Bucky were both chatting with her and Darcy, looking very pleased to be out to lunch with a couple of beautiful college girls, and no amount of Pietro’s smiles and flirty comments in that sexy accent could untie the knot in her middle.

She was such an idiot. She should have stayed content with their conversation at school, not gotten greedy and ruined everything.

Except, what had she ruined, exactly? Maybe this was perfect, she tried to convince herself. Steve would at least see that she wasn’t pining for him, just in case he suspected the truth. She should probably be flirting more, responding to Pietro’s efforts, but it was difficult when all she wanted to do was grab Steve and drag him away from the competi – er, her potential friends. Pietro’s twin, and her…roommate? Was that what Wanda had said? Shit, had Natasha absorbed anything of what was said today, or was she just growing stupider and stupider, until she was dumb enough to use a non-word like “stupider?”

Natasha gave herself a mental shake and focused on Pietro. He was her friend; he deserved her respect, at least, and for her to pay attention when he was talking to her.

Even if what he was saying was complete drivel, the utter goofball. She smiled at him and laughed at the lame joke he told, feeling both better and worse when he looked pleased to have elicited a reaction from her. Putting Steve from her mind, she gave her attention to her flirty friend and resolved to enjoy herself despite the way things had turned out. She could always meet Wanda another day, and things with Steve had been hopeless for two years already. Nothing had actually changed.


	4. Natasha Romanoff Does Not Waste Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops, posted the wrong chapter title last time and had a mini-stroke when I worried that I'd posted the wrong chapter. Nope! Easy fix :) enjoy!

Thankfully, Steve and Bucky didn’t join them for the movie after they finished at the restaurant. Darcy didn’t either, saying she had an essay to finish (start) that was due at midnight, so it was just Natasha and the twins who left together.

“I’m sorry for bringing friends,” Natasha said as they walked towards the parking lot. “I hope you weren’t offended. I wasn’t trying to avoid talking to you or anything.”

Wanda shook her head. “I brought a friend along as well,” she pointed out. “I wasn’t certain you and my brother would want a third wheel. There aren’t any films out that I particularly care to see, either, soo…” she trailed off.

Before Natasha could feel awkward or embarrassed, Pietro laughed and threw an arm around each of their shoulders. “Don’t worry, little sister, it’s not like that between us. We are just dating for fun, no? Friends, yes, and nothing more?” he asked.

Natasha nodded, relieved that they didn’t need to have an uncomfortable conversation. “Yeah, just friends,” she agreed.

Wanda poked her brother in the ribs. “I’m only twelve minutes younger than you, Piet,” she complained.

He just laughed, and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “You are younger and smaller than me, so the nickname is justified for two reasons. Now; what movie shall we see?”

Both Wanda and Natasha voted for the new action movie, and Pietro whined the whole time that having two pretty girls with him should have been his excuse to see the newest kiddie cartoon. He finally shut up when Wanda pinched him under the arm, and Natasha took note of the real pain on his face and decided not to make an enemy of Wanda, who was clearly the more dangerous twin.

Wanda was also every bit as awesome as Pietro had made her sound, and by the end of their post movie discussion in the parking lot, which would have made Natasha worried about her curfew if she had one, she was pleased to have Wanda’s number programmed into her phone, and plans to get their nails done together on the weekend before her next date with Pietro.

“Actually,” Wanda said, “Darcy and I are supposed to double with your friends Steve and Bucky that night. I know I don’t want my big brother crashing my date, but would you want to meet up for dessert or something after? It could be fun, like earlier today.”

Natasha felt her muscles spasm and swallowed a gasp at the sharp pain in her chest at Wanda’s offhand comment. Of course Steve was going out with her this weekend; why wouldn’t he be? Wanda was stunning, beautiful and sarcastic and she had a sexy foreign accent that lent her an air of mystery.

Pietro squeezed her shoulders and laughed. “We’ll see, little sister,” he said. “Maybe I do not want my date crashed by you and your friends.”

Wanda shoved him and retorted, “They’re Nat’s friends too.”

Despite how upset she was, Natasha smiled at the nickname. Not many people were brave enough to nickname her; actually it was pretty much just her brother, since Maria was oddly formal and didn’t use nicknames. Then again, Maria was probably going to wind up working for one of the alphabet agencies in the nation’s capital someday, so maybe that was just part of her self-assigned preparation. She was disturbingly focused for a high schooler.

“We’ll let you know,” she said, corroborating Pietro. They both knew the answer would be no, but there wasn’t any reason to tell Wanda that now, not while she was making a friendly overture. Natasha just hoped she didn’t want to talk about their upcoming dates at the salon.

 

She needn’t have worried. Wanda seemed to sense that their respective dates were a sensitive topic, and kept conversation to lighter getting-to-know-you subjects. Natasha found that the questions that annoyed her on first dates were fun to answer and ask in turn with Wanda, and their banter while they had their hands pampered touched some part of Natasha’s soul that she hadn’t realized was lonely. Why didn’t she and Maria ever do things like this? Maria was technically her best friend, yet they only saw each other at school and school related events. Was that because Natasha was a bad friend? Was she really still so closed off that she hadn’t even noticed that her actual best (only?) friend was her brother?

Was that pathetic?

Natasha realized she would be asking the wrong person to inquire of present company, since Wanda and Pietro were the kind of twins that made everyone else jealous of their twinhood. Also, Wanda and Pietro were awesome people, and Natasha had no qualms about having anything in common with them, especially a close relationship with her only sibling.

And she definitely wanted to hang out with Wanda again, even if the other girl did end up dating Steve. She didn’t really know who was supposed to be dating who tonight; maybe Steve was interested in Darcy. That would probably be easier on her heart, but Natasha couldn’t bring herself to ask.

 

Natasha’s date with Pietro was…fun. She was distracted, trying desperately not to think about Steve having fun with other girls, but Pietro was gracious about her lapses, and the amusement park was a great date. They rode the one and only roller coaster so many times in a row they got sick and had to take a break, played a round of mini-golf, and raced each other on the go-cart track despite the constant announcements that racing was not allowed and could get them thrown from the park.

They were just about ready to brave the coaster again when Pietro got a text from Wanda inviting them to get milkshakes, and he wordlessly held out the phone so Natasha could read it. Her insides clenched again, but outwardly she just smiled and shrugged.

“We can go if you want to,” she said.

He smiled at her. “Natasha, I can see my sister any time. If it will cause you pain, we can simply ride again. If you wish to go, we can leave now.”

Natasha felt suddenly how rude it was of her to be so obviously into another dude that her date, this handsome, funny, charming, kind man was aware that her thoughts and heart were elsewhere. She hugged him, suddenly and with a hard, firm clasp, and he was startled the way Phil used to be startled by her abrupt shows of affection.

“Thank you, Pietro,” she said. “I’m sorry. You are a really great guy, do you know that?”

He laughed and patted her back. “Of course I know, I am awesome,” he told her.

Natasha laughed and pulled away to tug on his hand. “Let’s ride this thing until we actually puke, or they close the park down,” she said. Thankfully, the park closed only half an hour later, and neither of them left their dinner behind when they left. Pietro even invited her out again later that week, to see an independent film he had to view for a class.

“Sure, sounds like fun,” she agreed, and kissed him on the cheek before they parted ways. They both knew these dates weren’t leading to anything serious; Pietro didn’t want to get emotionally involved until he knew how long he would be staying in the States, and they both knew Natasha’s heart wasn’t really her own to give away.

Not yet, anyway, but hopefully that would change soon, and Pietro was already helping. If nothing else, he was becoming a good friend, and Natasha was realizing she could use more of those.

 

Of course, theoretically knowing that Steve had gone out with another girl was different from hearing about it, which she did when she hung out with Wanda and Darcy the next afternoon. They were gathered at a coffee shop, ostensibly to do homework, but really all they’d accomplished was setting out their books. Natasha was relieved, somehow, to learn that Bucky had been the one to ask out Wanda, and suggest that they double with Darcy and Steve. It hurt less to think of Darcy, someone she didn’t know and maybe wouldn’t become good friends with, captivating Steve rather than Wanda…who seemed pretty enamored with Bucky, if the blush that rose to her cheeks when she talked about him was anything to go by.

“He is very sweet, especially for a high school boy,” she said. “I do not remember any of the boys at my school being so gentlemanly.”

Darcy laughed. “Neither do I; those guys are some sort of freak accident of nature, I think. It was fun. I’m not looking for a relationship or anything, but I’d do it again.” She cast a sly glance at Natasha. “Then again, I wouldn’t say no to swapping dates with Nat, either; your brother is seriously hot,” she said, winking at Wanda, who shuddered and put her hands over her ears.

Natasha laughed, and a light feeling bloomed in her chest. Darcy obviously had no serious intentions towards Steve, and Wanda and Bucky…they could be cute together. Wanda certainly didn’t seem opposed to the idea of a second date, and though nothing was already planned, Natasha would be surprised if Bucky wasn’t similarly interested.

They chatted about classes and Natasha’s plans after graduation, about books they’d read and places they’d travelled, getting very little done on their respective assignments, yet it felt like time well spent. Natasha couldn’t regret a single minute of it, not when she couldn’t remember ever laughing so much with a friend. They parted ways with mutual promises to see each other again, and soon, and Darcy declared that “next time you should just come to our dorm room.” Wanda vetoed that immediately, stating that not only would they definitely not get anything done, they would be embarrassed if Nat saw the condition of their room.

“You would be embarrassed,” Darcy corrected her, laughing. “I’m never embarrassed about anything.”

Natasha wondered what that would be like, and shook her head. She had spent so long honing her expressionless, reactionless façade, she couldn’t imagine being so genuinely open and uncaring of the world’s attacks and opinions. She found she wanted to be friends with Darcy as well as Wanda, was fascinated by how different and yet compatible they seemed.

All she said, of course, was “I don’t mind either way, but this was fun; we should absolutely hang out again, and soon please!” The please surprised her; she hadn’t planned to say that.

They parted with hugs, and even though she had to stay up late that night to finish her math assignment, Natasha fell asleep smiling.


	5. Natasha Romanoff Does Not Cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy ;)

Natasha was smiling at the goofy good morning text Pietro sent her during her third period – the gloater – when Steve called her name and caught up to her in the hall.

“Hi, Steve,” she greeted him, slipping her phone into her pocket and tamping down on the little thrill it gave her to be sought out. They had turned in their history project on Friday, and grades weren’t due until the end of the week, so he was probably not catching up to her to talk about school, right?

Then again, maybe he’d just forgotten to ask Darcy for her number Saturday, and figured Natasha could get it for him. That killed the elated bubbly feelings pretty effectively, stone cold dead.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” he asked.

Natasha steeled herself and turned around to face him. He was looking – if it was possible – even more attractive than usual, with an almost shy expression on his stupid perfect face. “Yes?” she asked, not bothering to blunt her clipped tone. 

He frowned, and Natasha just managed to control the urge to scream with frustration. Why was this guy forever frowning at her? What had she ever done to him to deserve such unrelenting disapproval?

Whatever. She was over him. She was. Or she would be. She had a date with Pietro to look forward to.

“Um, I just…why did you ask me out?” Steve asked.

Natasha froze and stared like a doe caught in the headlights.

Steve seemed to take her silence and wide eyed shock as an indicator that he should clarify. “Sophomore year…I don’t know if you even remember...” he said.

Natasha couldn’t help it; she laughed. It sounded bitter and mocking even to her ears. “I remember,” was all she said.

He was still frowning, and nodded. “Okay. Well, I mean…I’ve always wondered. Why?”

Natasha drew a ragged breath and closed her eyes against the tears that threated to rise and spill down her cheeks. She would NOT cry in front of Steve Rogers. God, in front of the whole school – he couldn’t have picked a better place for this conversation than the middle of the hall on her way to lunch? He wanted to publicly eviscerate her? But Natasha Romanoff did not cry. Even Steve Rogers knew that.

She WOULD NOT cry.

When she felt like that was a promise to herself that she could keep, several shaky breaths later, Natasha opened her eyes and met Steve’s gaze. “Why do you think I asked you out on a date, Steve?” she questioned, proud of how even her voice sounded.

He frowned and shrugged. “I don’t know anymore. Honestly, at the time I just thought it was a joke. I thought you were making fun of me, or doing it for a bet or something stupid like that. Now, though…I don’t think you’re the kind of person who would toy with a person like that. You’re not a player, and you’re not mean, so I just can’t figure it out. If it wasn’t to be mean or prove a point or something, why’d you ask out the skinniest nobody in the whole school?”

Natasha still felt like every breath was a ragged drag against her chest, like the air she breathed was a million tiny needle points, sharp and cruel, but she kept her breathing steady and even and Did. Not. Cry.

She also didn’t answer for a few minutes, trying to formulate her response. Why did he have to look so goddamn sincere when he said stuff like that? Finally, she answered, but all she could say was “I asked you out because I wanted to date you, Steve.” Any more than that and she’d be giving everything away.

He was still frowning and studying her face. “Okay, fine, but why?”

It was too much. Natasha was tired of holding herself together, tired of holding it all in, so very tired of never letting anyone see behind her walls. Her walls protected her, yes, but they were exhausting to maintain, and right now she just didn’t care anymore. She was tired of caring about what other people would think, how they might hurt her.

“I asked you out because I wanted to date you, Steve,” she said again. “You’re the only guy I’ve ever had a crush on. I was stupid to think that you would want to go out with me, obviously, but I had to try. I was tired of going on boring dates with boys that weren’t interesting or attractive or funny like you were and I didn’t want to be a coward and miss out on something that I thought would be wonderful.” She stopped and heaved a deep breath, and realized there were tears on her cheeks. She wiped them away and sniffed. Perfect. She was a complete wreck, a hot mess; this is why Natasha Romanoff did not let her walls down, did not let herself be vulnerable. It was humiliating.

Steve looked like he’d been struck by lightning. At least, he looked like Natasha thought a person would look after they’d been struck by lightning; she’d never actually witnessed an occurrence of that phenomenon. (Though Clint was such a magnet for both the terrible and the ridiculous that it wasn’t unlikely such an event lay in her future.)

“You,” he started, and swallowed so hard she could see his adam’s apple bob. “You had a crush on me? Sophomore year?”

She nodded.

“But…why?” he wondered.

Natasha laughed again, but it turned into a wet, disgusting sniffle at the end. “Really?” she said. “You really don’t know?” She interpreted his lost and confused expression to mean that no, he really didn’t.

“Steve,” she said, “you’re smart, and funny, and brave, and talented, and you stick up for people when you know damn well it’s just gonna earn you a black eye – or, I guess, you knew, since you don’t really get beat up anymore, but anyway. Yeah. You’re pretty much the best guy I know that I’m not related to, plus you’re ridiculously good looking. Of course I have a crush on you.”

He still looked shocked, but now Steve’s lips curled up into the beginnings of a smile. “You have a crush on me? As in, present tense?”

Bad words. All of the bad words. Natasha threw in a few Russian curses she remembered from her mother for good measure, because she was a complete idiot. Years she had successfully hidden her pain away from everyone, including (and most importantly) the person who’d caused it, and now because she was an idiot who couldn’t keep her emotions in check everything was laid bare. Steve knew now how badly she wanted him. He had that power over her. It was lucky for her he was such an upstanding guy, because otherwise she would be a lot more worried right now, instead of just mortified and angry.

She angrily wiped her hand under her eyes again and finally noticed that there were people watching them. They were standing in the middle of the hallway between classes, of course there were people staring. They were pretending not to, but most of them were not being subtle. God, Natasha hated high school. She couldn’t wait to be done with this nonsense.

She took a deep breath and pushed past Steve in a beeline for the nearest ladies room, then amended her plan and headed for the library instead. No one could ambush her in the library; Mrs. Bezeman wouldn’t allow it. No one was dumb enough to antagonize the old librarian; she really could be your best friend or your worst nightmare, and good luck surviving high school if you got on her bad side.

She smiled at the older woman and hid herself away in the farthest corner, glad that she at least had her book for English class. Her lunch break wouldn’t be a total waste…although she would need to stop at a vending machine for a granola bar or a bag of chips before her next class.

She was rereading the same paragraph for the third time when someone settled in to the chair next to her. A Steve shaped someone. Natasha made a point of finishing the paragraph despite knowing she’d have to read it a fourth time before lowering her book. Mrs. Bezeman let me down, was her first irrational thought, but she cleared her throat and that stray thought from her mind and said, “Yes, Steve? What can I do for you?”

He was smiling, and Natasha clenched her jaw and steeled her heart. “I think I preferred it when you frowned at me all the time,” she muttered.

He must have heard her, because that wiped the smile from his face as though she’d slapped him. “What?” he asked, and if Natasha thought his frown was terrible and his smile devastating, his wounded, hurt expression was a potent combination of the two that made her feel like she’d just shot Bambi’s mother and then stabbed the baby deer himself for an encore.

She cringed. “No, sorry, I just mean – you used to frown at me, all the time, like every time you saw me, and I’m just not used to the smiling.”

His mouth was starting to curl up into a smile again. “Does my smile irritate you?” he asked, and then continued without waiting for an answer. “Does it irritate you because you don’t like it, or because you like it too much?” he teased.

Natasha blushed. Good grief, she couldn’t control her reactions to this guy. She didn’t have any practice defending herself against people she actually liked and cared about and was attracted to – well, okay, mainly because that description only pertained to the one person sitting next to her.

Natasha Romanoff apparently did not have any chill when it came to Steve Rogers. Pretty soon the whole school would know that, if he kept this up.

Steve’s smile had reached maximum width and gleam, and really, this guy could be in a toothpaste ad if he wanted, and he chuckled. “So, about that crush: present tense?” he asked, and Natasha hid her glowing cheeks in her hands.

“Yes,” she admitted, and lifted her head to look him in the eye while she made her confession. “It’s still present tense. I’ve had a crush on you since Sophomore year, Steve. You’re a goddamn heartbreaker,” she accused him.

Now Steve was also blushing, but he was still smiling. He ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and looked up at her from under his lashes, and Natasha shook her head. He was such a genuine person, Natasha suspected he might actually be ignorant of his own appeal, especially in such a moment, but he was also enough of a sarcastic sass master to keep up with her own dry, snarky humor, so maybe he was doing it on purpose.

“Well, uh,” he said, and even the stammer was cute, she thought, “I guess I should go ahead and tell you then that the feeling is mutual, now.”


	6. Natasha Romanoff Likes This Euphoria Nonsense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved your reactions to the last chapter - hope this one satisfies!

Natasha stared. She probably blinked, she maybe remembered to breathe, but she mostly just stared. At Steve. Who liked her.

Steve liked her.

Right? Was she hallucinating? Had she experienced a psychotic break in the hallway, and now this non-reality was her reality? Or was this really happening?

Steve laughed. “You’re not hallucinating,” he assured her. So apparently she said some of that out loud. She didn’t even care.

She could feel a smile growing on her face, to match his own giant grin, as they sat in the library just gazing at each other. They both laughed, and Natasha asked, “For how long?”

“How long has your crush been mutual?” he clarified, and she nodded. He rubbed the back of his neck again, looking sheepish. “This year?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” she questioned.

“This year,” he said again, more firmly. “I – like I said, I didn’t take you seriously when you asked me out, but I was a little confused by it, so I was trying to figure it – you – out all last year, and this year…”

“You finally realized that I’m perfect and wondered what kind of moron pills you were on when you turned me down?” she finished for him. They laughed together again, and Natasha savored the warm glowy feeling of the happiness welling up inside her.

“This year I actually talked to you and got to know you, and found out you were a really cool person underneath that mask you wear,” he corrected. “I always knew you were beautiful, and smart, but now I know you’re funny, and thoughtful , and I didn’t miss my chance. Now I know I had a chance.”

“Have a chance,” she said. She laid her hand on his where it rested on the arm of his chair, and he twisted it so that their fingers twined together.

“Yeah,” he said, in a soft voice. “I realized when I saw you flirting with Pietro that just because you hadn’t dated in a while didn’t mean you wouldn’t start again, and I thought I’d better say something before I spent the rest of my life wondering.”

Natasha scoffed. “The rest of your life, huh? We’re in high school, Steve.”

He shrugged. “My parents started dating in high school,” he said. His hand tightened on hers, probably unintentionally, maybe he didn’t even notice, but she did, and she squeezed him back.

“Well,” she said, “I can’t promise we’ll get married or anything, but Steve, would you like to go out with me?”

“You mean like on a date?” he asked.

She laughed, and then apologized to Mrs. Bezeman for how loud they were being. “Yes, only not like a date,” she whispered to Steve, grinning so hard her face was starting to hurt, “an actual date. You and me, and a social activity outside of school.”

He nodded. “That sounds awesome,” he said.

Natasha knew better than to try kissing a boy in the school library, especially when they’d already been reprimanded once, but she felt that her restraint on the matter deserved recognition, maybe a medal, because wow, Steve Rogers was the best looking guy she’d ever seen, and he wanted to date her, and his lips had never looked more tempting.

Then her stomach grumbled and broke the mood.

“So, uh, now that I’m not…um, you want to get lunch?” she asked, and couldn’t fault him for laughing at her after that spectacular fail of a sentence.

“Yeah,” he agreed, and as they left the library, his hand sought out her again. Natasha vaguely noticed, with the part of her brain that was always scanning her surroundings, that there were people staring at them as they walked to the cafeteria, holding hands, but she couldn’t be bothered to care. She also couldn’t seem to stop grinning, beaming at Steve like he’d just cured cancer, but since he was smiling back just as dopily, she didn’t care about that either. She was probably still going to wake up tomorrow and find that it had all been a dream, or at least wonder if it was all a dream, but for now, this was happening, and she was going to enjoy it.

“So were you worried the other day, when you were flirting with Darcy, that I was into Pietro?” she asked when they sat down with their food.

“I wasn’t flirting with Darcy,” he protested.

“You went out on a date with her,” she said.

“I went on a double date with Bucky,” he corrected. “Which was his idea, leftover from when I was skinny and nobody wanted to go out with me.”

“I wanted to go out with you,” she pointed out.

Steve shrugged. “I didn’t know that.”

“I literally asked you to go out on a date with me!” Natasha cried. “How much more obvious should I have been?”

He shrugged again. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just…didn’t think you could possibly be asking me out because you wanted to date me, and none of the other reasons I could come up with were very flattering, to either of us.”

“Well,” Natasha said, “that’s because you’re an idiot.”

He laughed just as he tried to take a drink of his water, and ended up sputtering and choking while she giggled at him.

“Also,” she said when he’d recovered. “I was only flirting with Pietro because I was trying to forget about you. He and I aren’t…I don’t like him, and I know he thinks of me as only a friend. But we are going out again,” she remembered, “tomorrow night. He has to see some independent film for a class assignment.”

Steve pouted. “I finally make a move and you’re already ditching me for some other guy,” he complained, but he couldn’t hold the pout for long before his smile took back over. “That’s fine, when are you free to go out on an actual date with me?” he asked.

“This weekend? Maybe Saturday? We could get lunch or something and go from there,” she suggested, and he nodded.

“That sounds great,” he said.

There was a wild fluttery feeling in Natasha’s stomach, like her burger was transforming into a flock of butterflies instead of digesting.

“Though I am kind of disappointed,” he said, and Natasha’s snapped to his face. “Two years you’ve had to plan this social activity outside of school for us, and the best you can come up with is ‘we’ll go from there?’”

“No,” she said, “for two years I thought you hated me, and I’ve been trying to get over you.”

Now he frowned, and Natasha almost scowled too at the sight of it. She was totally lying before, she hated it when he frowned at her; she wanted the smiles back. “You thought I hated you?” he asked.

“Well, not hated I guess,” she amended. “Just, you really did frown at me whenever you looked at me, like you thought I was always doing something wrong or you wished I wasn’t there.”

“I was trying to figure you out,” he explained. “No one at school really knows you, or at least, not the real you. You have a lot of people who call themselves your friends but no one who seems to actually spend time with you or know about things like your weird love of world war two.”

“Phil’s the one obsessed with world war two,” she said.

“Natasha. You bought a uniform.”

“That was so Phil won’t have to go alone the first few times!” she protested. “I don’t want him to be nervous.”

Steve just shook his head at her and snickered. “Sure,” he said.

“I never should have told you that,” Natasha grumbled, and he laughed.

“I’m glad you did,” he said. “I like knowing things about you that no one else does.”

His sincere, I-care-about-you face was going to be the end of her. Here lies Natasha Romanoff, her tombstone would read, killed by the beautiful, kind sincerity of Steve Rogers’ stupid handsome face. She couldn’t look at it for too long, or it would probably induce her to start confessing all her transgressions dating back to her first foster home.

They held hands again on their way to biology class, and Natasha finally understood all the sappy idiots who claimed they were floating on air and all that nonsense, because she was experiencing all of that nonsense now. It felt euphoric. She never wanted this to end. And this was just school; she couldn’t wait for Saturday, for an actual date, just the two of them, spending the day together…Natasha felt like they should really just excuse her from classes the rest of the day; she was not going to hear a single word the teachers said.


	7. Natasha Romanoff Does Not Know When To Stop Talking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Date happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um...I accidentally angsted, so this chapter is maybe not what y'all were expecting. I love fluff, though, so don't worry: it won't last long!

Saturday had never taken so long to arrive. Pietro had laughed when she explained the reason for the smile she couldn’t turn off – or down a notch, even – when she met him for the film viewing, and hugged her. Wanda, too, and then the other girl had promptly suggested a double date.

“Or maybe we could triple,” she said with a sly look at her brother. “Darcy did say she’d be willing to swap dates with you.”

Both girls were very interested in the flush of color on Pietro’s cheeks after this comment, but Natasha was still feeling too euphoric to tease him much, and mostly just giggled at Wanda’s digs. They enjoyed the movie, and Natasha texted Steve afterwards before she went to bed. She texted him every night that week, actually, and spent lunch with him at school, holding hands in the hall on their way to shared classes…it was the best week of Natasha’s scholastic career, no contest. She felt like she was floating everywhere she went.

And finally Saturday arrived.

Natasha had never dressed so carefully for a date, or been so excited. She’d spent hours on Pinterest and Instagram and lots of fashion blogs she’d formerly been ignorant of the existence of in preparation for this. Comfortable shoes, so they could walk around all day if necessary. Layers, for the same reason. Her usual bare minimum of makeup, and she left her hair down. Then put it up. Took it back down. Stood in front of the mirror wondering if she should wear a different jacket, but was prevented from further second guessing by the arrival of her date.

Steve looked more handsome than ever, which she wouldn’t have thought possible until that moment. Her breath caught, and she smiled so widely she was afraid her jaw would crack, but she didn’t care if she looked silly. She was finally going on a date with Steve Rogers. Nothing could make this day more perfect.

They spent so much time talking instead of eating that their lunch took twice as long as anyone else’s at the restaurant, and Natasha laughed so loudly when   
Steve suggested they go to the zoo next to feed the giraffes that several other patrons cast judgmental looks their way. Natasha was impervious to their disapproval.

Feeding the giraffes went about as well as Natasha remembered from her grade school field trip, but it was so much more fun with Steve, and now at least his arms were long enough that the animals didn’t eat his hair. They wandered around the whole zoo chatting about field trips they’d taken, funny experiences they’d had, and eventually wound up talking about their future plans while eating overpriced, over sugared snacks by the reptile enclosure.

“What do you want to do after graduation?” Steve asked, filching a bite of her cotton candy.

She swatted his hand and said, “I’m applying for a few scholarships, but honestly I’d like to stay in town and go to college with Clint his last year. Probably live in the dorms for a semester or two, but…it’s nice to have a real home, and Phil. I don’t want to go too far.”

Steve looked thoughtful and nodded. “I guess a lot of kids our age are looking to escape from home, and want to go far away to get away from their parents, but for you, being on your own and having that freedom wouldn’t be new or exciting, or appealing, would it?”

Natasha shook her head. It would be impossible to explain how much Phil meant to her, what he meant to her and Clint, and there was a lump in her throat when she swallowed that she didn’t want to talk around, so she stayed silent.

“How about you?” she asked a few minutes later, when the silence was stretching into awkward.

He smiled. “Art school,” he said, and filched another bite of spun sugar. “I’ll be a few states away, but I’m planning to take a car so I can come home for breaks. It’s not a bad drive. We’ll still see each other plenty,” he assured her with a grin.

Natasha laughed and ignored the way her heart clenched a little. “You’re making a lot of assumptions there, Rogers,” she teased. “Who’s to say we’ll even be dating still by the summer?” Of course, she hoped they would be, but if life had taught her anything, it was how to hide her pain and grab onto the good while it lasted, knowing all the while that it would end.

He frowned, and wow if Natasha never saw that expression pointed her direction ever again it would still be too soon. “Well I’m not starting out this relationship already planning for it to end,” he told her.

“I’m not planning for it to end,” she protested. “Just being realistic. We’re in high school, Steve. I know, I know,” she said, holding up a hand to forestall his argument. “Some people actually do marry their high school sweetheart, but it’s pretty rare. And of those that do, I think most of them end up divorced. I’m not saying we won’t be dating when we leave for college; I’m just saying, can’t we just enjoy this without worrying about the future? It’s our first date!”

Steve was still frowning at her, and she forced a laugh. “This is actually pretty heavy conversation for a first date; I’ve never gotten past the introductory basics before, actually,” she said, trying to tease him, but her tone fell flat. Somehow their funland ride had derailed, and she was helpless to do anything but watch it crash and burn. She desperately wished to rewind time and skip this conversation, avoid the awkwardness and the stormy expression on Steve’s face, but instead she was stuck inside some sort of living nightmare where her first date with the guy she’d been hopelessly crushing on for two years was shaping up to possibly be her last and only date with said crush. Why couldn’t she rein in her mouth around this guy? Why couldn’t she control anything she did around this guy?

Steve Rogers was a menace, is what he was. A menace who was still frowning, but at least he wasn’t stealing her cotton candy anymore, she told herself. Anything to focus her attention away from his frown, and the pressure building behind her eyes, because he still hadn’t said anything.

She stood abruptly and shoved the rest of her cone of sugar at his face; her stomach was too busy cramping with dread to handle any more of the snack.

“Here, you can finish it,” she said. “Want to walk through the reptile house?” she asked, gesturing behind him. “I think it’s the only thing we haven’t seen yet.”

He agreed, and they started talking again, about other things, like assignments in shared classes and school gossip, and even though they both smiled and laughed, by the end of the date Natasha still felt sick with worry, and skipped dinner.

Steve didn’t text her that night.

Or the next night. She sent him a silly joke she’d found on tumblr, nothing that required a response, just in case she didn’t get one. She didn’t.

Monday she debated skipping school, just to avoid the crushing disappointment if Steve didn’t smile at her and hold her hand and walk her to class, but decided that sooner rather than later was the best course of action, and Natasha Romanoff was no coward.

The whole school knew that.

She didn’t see Steve until lunch period, which pretty much told her all she needed to know. He had sought her out every morning last week before homeroom, just to say hello. She spent her lunch in the library, trying to make headway on her reading for English class. After that, though, there was no eluding him; they shared biology.

He was already in the classroom when she walked in, and after a cursory glance at him, Natasha slid into her seat across the room. He was concentrating on something on his phone screen, and didn’t see her. He wasn’t looking for her.

Natasha took a deep breath and told herself that it wasn’t anything she didn’t already know, except that until that moment, she had held out hope that there was just some simple misunderstanding, that Steve would still be smiling at her and wanting to date her and spend time with her and hold her hand and eventually, finally,   
be Natasha’s first kiss, but no. His phone wasn’t broken, he wasn’t sick, he wasn’t absent. He just wasn’t looking for her.

Well, she told herself, it was just as well, and as she herself had said on Saturday (oh curse your big mouth, Natasha!), it was better to end their relationship before it even started than suffer more hurt later on. He wasn’t willing to take what time they could, and that was fine. It really was, she reasoned with herself. It was better this way.

And curse him for taking her out on Saturday and showing her how good it could have been.

Maybe if she focused on that, Natasha could move on to the angry part of the breakup. The breakup they hadn’t officially had yet. Probably because they hadn’t been dating long enough to actually have a relationship, which was a prerequisite for a breakup.

Natasha accepted that she was not going to be able to pay attention to anything Mr. Banner said that day, and asked for an excuse to go see the nurse. She didn’t look at Steve while she gathered her things and walked out, and she didn’t text him when she left school early to spend the afternoon in her room, curled up in her bed listening to video game soundtracks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me! I PROMISE this will have a happy ending!


	8. Natasha Romanoff Does Not Believe In Regrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is the next chapter! I wrassled it a long time. Hope it lives up to the anticipation!

When the text message alert sounded on her phone, Natasha turned her head to stare at it but didn’t move to answer. When it sounded again, she groaned and sat up, stretching to reach it and nearly falling out of bed in the process, because she was too lazy (sad) to stand up and grab it.

New message from Steve.

Natasha stared at her phone, gripping it so tightly her knuckles turned white. As long as she didn’t open it, she could pretend it said anything. It could be an apology. It could be an invitation to go out again. He might even have an explanation for his rude behavior that made perfect sense.

Or it could be something like an offer to share notes from the classes she’d missed.

Well, Natasha reasoned, it couldn’t be anything worse than what she’d already imagined and endured: she opened the message.

I’m sorry.

Well, she thought, that was the best of the possibilities, really. Now that he’d apologized, however, Natasha found that instead of sadness, or relief, all she felt was anger. How dare Steve Rogers treat her this way? Did he think it was funny, to string her along? To watch the impassive Natasha Romanoff, who did not blush, or pine, or cry, do all of those things for him? Was this a game to him?

As soon as she thought that, however, she knew it wasn’t true. Steve was a genuinely good guy. He wouldn’t toy with her like that. At least, not on purpose.

She was still staring at her phone, and realized it had been nearly twenty minutes since Steve’s message had come through. She nibbled her bottom lip, debating her response. Finally, she settled on a brief “what for” and sent it before she could talk herself into even more of a tizzy.

His reply came back much faster than she’d been expecting, and it was longer than she’d anticipated as well.  
I’m sorry that I was so withdrawn today. I didn’t mean to shut you out. I don’t know how to react to what you said on our date, if you want the same things from this relationship that I do.

“Well,” Natasha muttered to herself, “it’s not a relationship, not yet, and it won’t be if you keep this up.” All she texted back, however, was “I accept your apology.”

Then she turned her phone off. She would deal with whatever else he wanted to say to her tomorrow, after she’d processed tonight.

 

The next morning when she turned her phone back on, not only did Natasha find several new messages from Steve waiting for her, but one from Wanda as well, asking how her weekend was, and did she already have plans for the next?

Natasha didn’t really feel like explaining over text message that her date had been a disaster, especially not since Wanda probably wanted to plan a double date with Steve and Bucky. She sent her a call you later message and took a deep breath, bracing herself before opening the conversation with Steve.

Thank you.

Will you have lunch with me tomorrow at school? I’d like to talk about this in person.

Well, those were innocuous enough; Natasha said yes, and wished she’d put a little more thought the night before into her outfit for the day. She wanted Steve to know what he’d thrown away. She wanted him to be sorry, regretful, to wish he hadn’t taken her comments so badly.

Mostly she still wished she could go back in time and erase that disastrous conversation, but regrets weighed a person down.

Natasha Romanoff did not let things like regrets hold her back, or weigh her down.

Even Phil and Clint knew that.

 

Now if she could just convince herself, she’d be fine.

 

 

She didn’t see Steve until lunch, when he appeared at her locker carrying a brightly colored zippered tote bag with embroidered letters spelling ROGERS on the side. “I brought lunch,” he said, lifting the bag. “I thought we could eat outside.”

She nodded but didn’t say anything, keeping her face impassive. She caught him studying her with that damn frown on his face on their walk outside, but ignored him. She also caught the stares and whispers from their classmates. She ignored those, too.

When they sat at picnic table out on the front lawn, he started pulling out plastic containers filled with lunch meat, a loaf of bread, condiments, several different kinds of sliced cheese, avocado, tomato, bean sprouts, lettuce, spinach, peanut butter, two different jars of jelly, two apples and a banana. Natasha fought to keep her amusement from showing, but it grew with each new thing he pulled from the Mary Poppins lunch bag until she was smirking at him.

“Really?” she asked, when she was sure there wasn’t anything else waiting to be placed on the table, surveying the spread.

He blushed. “I wasn’t sure what you would prefer,” he said, and shrugged. He opened the bag of bread and pulled out two slices to lay on one of the paper plates. “So, what’ll you have?” he asked, waving a hand at the options.

She told him what she liked on a sandwich as he made it for her, and finally he sliced it and pushed the plate over to rest in front of her on the table. He reached back into the bag and pulled out a water bottle and placed that in front of her as well. “We didn’t have any lemonade at home,” he told her apologetically, and Natasha pretended it didn’t affect her that he remembered that was her favorite drink.

“Water is fine, thank you,” she said, and waited for him to make his own sandwich before eating. She didn’t say anything else; this was his idea, and it was for him to initiate the awkward conversation.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, when they had eaten several bites in silence.

Well, that didn’t take long.

“I already accepted your apology,” she reminded him.

“I know, but I wanted to say it in person,” he said, looking her directly in the eye. His gaze was intense; Natasha felt caught, like an animal frozen in place watching the predator close in. She couldn’t look away. “I just…I didn’t know how to react, when you talked about us breaking up like it was definitely going to happen. I’ve been trying to figure you out for the last few years, and I obviously haven’t made any progress, but…I really like you, Natasha, and I want to have a relationship with you. I know we’re young, but that doesn’t mean it can’t still work out. I really like you,” he said again, and reached out a hand to lay over hers on the table. “It…it hurt my feelings to hear you talk about us breaking up eventually, so casually, like it wouldn’t affect you, it would just be something to check of your college prep list next summer.”

Natasha shook her head. “That’s not what I meant,” she protested. “Just…” She looked at him, studied the open, apologetic expression and cursed again the effect his sincerity had on her. She took a deep breath and decided that being vulnerable with him couldn’t possibly feel worse than she had yesterday afternoon, and pressed on. “Steve,” she started again, “I’ve had a crush on you since I was fourteen. For the past four years. I hadn’t even lived in one place that long until we moved in with Phil. Clint, and now Phil, are the only constants I’ve ever had in life. We’re in high school; college is another four years, and life…so much can change so quickly. I don’t want us to break up, but I can’t ignore the fact that it could happen. I have to be prepared for it to happen. Expecting the worst is just…it’s how I cope.”

He squeezed her hand, and she stared down at his large hand covering hers and laughed. It sounded bitter even to her own ears. “Honestly I never expected to be so serious about this, especially not so quickly. I wanted to go out with you, yeah, but I figured we’d have a typical high school relationship – over in a few months, maybe a year or two at best. You turned me down so, uh, absolutely, and always looked so disgusted when you looked at me, that I never thought it could happen, so I’ve spent years now trying to stop wanting this. It’s going to take me some time to retrain my brain to accept that you want this too. If you still do, I guess,” she finished. She risked a look up at his face to gauge his reaction.

Steve looked stricken. “I think the question is if you still want to try this,” he said. “I didn’t mean to come on so strong, for sure not so quickly, and I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you think that…well, I was just trying to let you know that I’m serious about this, about you. I don’t want to date casually, not with you. I did that last year and it wasn’t as much fun as Bucky always made it out to be.” He scrunched up his nose and made a face at her, and Natasha tried to laugh.

She didn’t know what she was feeling under the onslaught of this conversation. It would take her time, alone later in her room, to untangle all the complicated reactions this lunch had called forth. In the meantime, she said, “Aren’t you awfully young to be done with ‘casual dating’, Steve? You’re an old man before your time, Rogers,” she teased him, tapping on the insulated tote bag.

He blushed and laughed. “Yeah, my mom got that a few years ago for road trips, and I couldn’t fit a cooler in my locker.”

Natasha laughed, genuinely and easily this time, feeling lighter than she had since the end of their date days ago. “But you considered a cooler first, is what I’m hearing?”

He shrugged sheepishly, and she laughed again. “It’s just, if you’re going to do a thing, you should do it right,” he said, pinning her again with that steady blue gaze, “and when you have to make your first apology to your girlfriend before you’ve even asked her to be your girlfriend, well…I figured that better be a really great sandwich.”

Natasha bit her lip to keep from smiling. She still needed time to think about everything, and she had been so hurt and so angry, yet…would it be wrong to say yes? To grab this bit of happiness that she’d wanted for so long?

Natasha knew she had a tendency to overthink things, partly from a naturally introverted disposition and partly because for most of her short life the only person she’d really talked to was her brother. She had plenty of practice at overthinking. She decided that being happy was something she should get more practice at. She always refused to let herself have regrets, but she knew that if she missed her chance with Steve she would break that rule, and she might never forgive herself.

“Girlfriend, huh?” she asked, allowing herself a small smile.

He looked relieved to see it. “If you’ll have me?”

“Steve Rogers is my boyfriend; I like the sound of that. Do we shake on it or something?” she asked, and he threw his head back and laughed so hard he grabbed his chest to steady himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, personal story, I used to say all the time that if you're going to do a thing, you should do it right, until my husband very gently told me that honey, with you, it's more like if you're going to do a thing, do it big, cause you might not get it right, but you ALWAYS do it big. Ha. He wasn't wrong. But the original way I said it seemed very Steve to me.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short, but I hope it doesn't disappoint ;)

Natasha could definitely get used to having a boyfriend. Well, she was trying to, anyway. Especially (mostly) since her boyfriend was Steve Rogers, boyfriend extraordinaire, and all around amazing guy. She had thought the days leading up to their first official date were great? That was nothing compared to being Steve’s girlfriend, the floaty feeling of being in a relationship with the best guy she knew, the guy she’d been crushing on for YEARS, and he was hers. He held her hand, he spent every free moment at school with her, he came over to her house for dinner with Phil and Clint (and he still wanted to date her after that dinner!), he made plans with her for the weekend…plans that she was looking forward to not just because she loved spending time with her boyfriend (almost as much as she loved using that word!), but because Natasha was planning to get her first kiss out of it.

Because Natasha had never been kissed.

Pretty much no one at school knew that.

But that would all change this weekend, because Steve was taking her out for a romantic dinner. She spent hours going through her closet with Wanda, choosing which dress and shoes to wear, giggling over their respective dates and Pietro’s awkwardness when he asked out Darcy (Wanda told the story with great flair). 

In the end, though, it didn’t really matter what dress she wore or how well it paired with her shoes, because after one stunned look Steve’s eyes were trained on her face, smiling back at her million-watt smile, offering her his arm out to the car (she definitely picked the right shoes, his face was close enough for kissing), and staring at her probably more than was safe considering he was driving, grinning like a fool. Her fool.

The restaurant wasn’t particularly fancy or expensive, but they enjoyed good food, and dessert, and laughed through their conversations. Natasha discovered about halfway through her entrée that if she leaned forward when she giggled or took a sip of water Steve would blush a little and have a hard time meeting her gaze; she did it as often as possible the rest of the time they were eating.  
Steve paid the check and waved away her offer to split, remembering that he was planning to go to an expensive out of state school, but he squeezed her hand and assured her that “I was raised to treat a lady right, and I know it’s old fashioned, but please let me pay this time.”

Natasha knew it was evil, but she leaned forward and squeezed his hand back. “In that case, thank you, and the next one’s on me,” she told him, not missing the way his eyes dropped briefly or the hum of his throat clearing.

The restaurant was in the downtown plaza, and after they paid Steve asked if she’d be too cold walking around for a bit. She draped her shawl around her shoulders and assured him that she’d love a walk.

“Besides,” she added with a wink, “isn’t that what having a boyfriend is for? Warming me up if I get cold?”

Steve blushed so brightly she could see it in the glow of light from the street lamps, and she laughed a little before tucking her hand under his arm. She was already scoping out the street, trying to decide where the most romantic spot would be to ambush him, when he tugged her to a halt.

“Nat, don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” he said, and her heartbeat quickened. “But I think we should take it slow, and you’re not making it easy.”

Now her heart sank, despite the nickname. “You don’t want to kiss me?” she asked.

His eyebrows raised. “I think you know I want to do a damn sight more than just kiss you,” he replied, and this time Natasha blushed. He was so direct sometimes, so…blunt, but it was just so earnest you couldn’t be offended by it; it was never rudely meant.

“It’s just…” he continued, “I, uh, you might as well know that I don’t have a lot of, um, experience, and you already know I’m pretty old-fashioned. I…I don’t, that is…”

“Steve,” she said, squeezing his arm, “I don’t mind old-fashioned. And I probably have less experience than you,” she admitted. “I’ve never even been kissed.”

His eyebrows rose. “Well, then I guess we’re on more even footing than I thought.”

Natasha smiled. “So, first kiss for both of us then?”

He was still blushing, but now he was grinning too. “Looks that way.”

Natasha felt like she was drowning. His blue, blue eyes were darkened and locked on hers, and she understood now why deer didn’t leap out of the way of the oncoming car; they were mesmerized. Forget the shadowy spot over by that bench under the tree, she was going to kiss her boyfriend right here under the street light in full view of everyone, judgmental stares be damned.

She didn’t even realize she was leaning forward until Steve steadied her with a large, warm hand on her arm and guided her towards the very bench she had been eyeing. It was official; they were perfect for each other. Or at least Steve was as close to perfect a boyfriend as she’d ever imagined.

Natasha wondered if Steve’s heart was thundering as loudly in his ears as her own, or if he could hear her heart rate, it was pounding so hard. She licked her lips, suddenly worried that her lipstick might have dried them out. She would never forgive herself if her first kiss was ruined by dry lips.

But the movement seemed to mesmerize Steve as completely as his gaze had done her earlier, and he was leaning in towards her, and then everything was too much and too wonderful and so different from how she’d pictured this moment. His hands, so large one covered the back of her neck, and so warm the other was probably burning a hole through her shawl on her shoulder – how was he so warm, when it was so chilly outside? – and their lips were touching, softly at first, both tentative and inexperienced, and it sent shivers down her spine that made her whole body convulse with pleasure and a surfeit of sensation. The drag of their mouths against one another, the sound of his breath catching when she bit down lightly on his bottom lip, her own stuttering heart and lungs when his hand slid from her shoulder down to her hip to squeeze, so gently, but with the promise of so much more.

They broke apart after what seemed like seconds – years – forever and yet no time at all.

Natasha decided she really like kissing her boyfriend.

She smiled at his dazed expression and leaned back in.


End file.
